What I learned. . .
If you cry you lose.
That phrase was my somewhat frequent admonition to the actors in Of Mice and Men, which comes alive and thrives the more devoid of sentiment it is. As with so many plays set during the Great Depression, the characters need to hold the world at bay; otherwise, all is lost. So adhering to the basic principle that an audience is not interested in your emotions, they’re interested in your actions became all the more essential to the production’s success. In a play in which loneliness and isolation are seared across every page of the script, it is the need to reach out – the need for human connection and contact, rather than actual contact itself – that becomes so moving. Just like life.
Sentiment is a great trap for actors, intertwined as it is with our need to be loved, our need to be liked, our need for attention. It had been a while since I’d worked on a script in which the lesson of avoiding sentimentality in our choices had taken such a prominent role in my direction (though what I’ve learned through the opportunity to work on plays such as Brighton Beach Memoirs, Tuesdays With Morrie, and even Six Dance Lessons in Six Weeks, has informed my directing no matter how large a role sentimentality plays in a script), and directing Steinbeck’s play provided an excellent refresher course as well as the opportunity to focus on a simple but crucial element of my directing foundation.
The cast we assembled for the production was broad-based in its experience and included five University of Tennessee MFA acting students carrying major roles; a number of undergrad students in smaller parts; several actors from the community plus one Equity faculty member-actor handling supporting roles. I think we knit together a cohesive whole for the production, mostly by applying a few basic principles: stillness, connection, and the aforementioned avoidance of sentimentality – along with keeping the work smaller-scaled in order to achieve the sort of truth that playing in an intimate space such as UT-K/CBT’s Carousel Theatre requires.
Again, I was fortunate to have a village of expert collaborators. Matt Tibbs as guest sound designer and Ron Keller as guest set designer; Marianne Custer, one of two resident costume designers at the Clarence Brown, and MFA lighting student Tannis Kappell handling the simple but effective lighting design. Add to that the steadfast commitment of Carol Mayo Jenkins as our dialect coach, John Sipes for combat sequences, and the wonderful Conner Wilson as my assistant director, and we certainly had a recipe for success.
Sad as Of Mice and Men is, Knoxville audiences were ready for the material and attended the production in droves. Perhaps the lessons in avoiding sentimentality helped create a moving experience in the theatre while it reminded all of us of our own aloneness and our own need for human connection. How like the theatre to do exactly that.